


Made in the USA

by TheGirlWhoWearsBlack



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Character Death, F/M, Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Not Really Character Death, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, True Love, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26032684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWhoWearsBlack/pseuds/TheGirlWhoWearsBlack
Summary: The reader's journey and struggles of living with a Steve Rogers that finally manages to enlist in the U.S. Army.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Made in the USA

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Demi Lovato's song Made in the USA from her album Demi. 
> 
> The reader struggles with her skinny boyfriend Steve going to war. A bunch of things happen and hope begins to fade. Tons of emotions, angst but with a fluffy happy ending :)  
> Both pre and post serum Steve. 
> 
> I wrote it in one night so please be gentle. Enjoy!

Steve Rogers was your person ever since you had memory. He had always been the skinny yet strong-headed kid with a heart of gold that lived across the street. You practically grew up together, though Steve was a few years older than you, he never made you feel like it was a problem.

It took 20 years of knowing each other for Steve to pick up that you were into him.

Even if she had her doubts about his ability to provide what a man should to his woman due to his flimsy build, your mother felt relieved once you told her that you were dating Steve Rogers from across the street. She believed you were getting old with 20 years and no boyfriend in sight, she feared you were going to become a spinster and God forbid her pretty daughter became one of those alone, bitter women without a purpose.

Wimpy boyfriend was better than no boyfriend at all.

Steve’s physique meant nothing to you. It never did.

When you were children you only saw the boy who stood up to the other kids who wouldn’t allow you to play ball with them. As pre-teens, he was the one who tried to fight the boys who were harassing you for beginning to show your top half lady assets, howbeit, this time around you were the one who ended up defending him from the punches the other kids threw at him.

Steve somehow managed to show you time after time how much he actually saw you as a capable human and not only a woman meant to be married and birth children like most men still did. He always saw beyond the surface and tried to be as fair as he could. He made it seem so easy…

Steve encouraged you to grow, to learn and to dare. He was the reason you were training to become a nurse in order to make your dream of helping people come true. You wished Steve could get the same; his biggest yearn was to enlist and serve his country during the war against the Axis.

Maybe you wished it too hard because it actually came true and all of a sudden the reality of said wish being granted fell into your head like a bucket of ice-cold water. You dreaded Stark Expo, the enlistment booth in it and Bucky Barnes from dragging the two of you for a double date with a random chick he met the day before.

Steve was going to war. For real.

The man you loved most, the only person you wanted to be with was actually going to fight in that vicious war. Perhaps you had only been officially together for two years, but you knew him for 23, your entire-freaking-life.

The night he told you about him being finally accepted into the army, after several failed attempts, he looked so happy and proud you couldn’t dare to say anything to stop him. This was exactly what he wanted and there was no way on Earth you were going to take it away from him, not after everything he had done for you.

That night, you made love with Steve for the first time, mostly fearing that it was going to be the last chance you’d get to be with him the way you always dreamt of. After he passed out from tiredness, you managed to sneak out of his bed, his house and made your way to Bucky’s, Steve’s best friend's house. He was going to be sent away the morning after, thus it was your last opportunity to talk to him face to face.

Bucky was clearly shocked when he saw you with only your coat over your nightgown, tears rolling down your cheeks, at his door in the middle of the night.

“I’d be lying if I said I understand exactly how the army works, Bucky, but you got to promise me, that if somehow your path and Steve’s cross at some point, you’d do whatever it is in your power to protect him.”

“Y/N…”

“He got in, Buck. They took him in.” You wheezed as you tried to clean the drops in your face. “We both know how he is. Steve’s resilient and he has great intentions but he’s so…I just –I just fear that he’s not going to make it back to me. They are going to walk all over him and eat him like a piece of pie.”

Bucky couldn’t know for sure either if his fate was to see Steve again, however he promised you he was going to do what he could if he got the chance to keep your boyfriend safe. Buck knew more than anyone how much you two loved each other, and he believed that Steve and you deserved your happily-ever after.

Somehow Bucky’s promise eased your anxiety and you were able to go back to your lover to sleep tightly in his slim yet protective embrace. The day after, Steve could sense something was off, he got his confirmation once he caught you bawling your eyes out in the bathroom.

It hurt him to see you in such a state, it hurt him a little bit more that you felt the need to hide it from him. Steve knew why you did it; you were such a good girlfriend, strong and duty-oriented, you’d never say or do anything to spoil his opportunity to get his dream of serving your country. And for that same reason, he felt keen to stay if you dared to ask him to, because that would mean you actually wouldn’t be able to take it and he understood.

“Are you out of your mind? Of course I want you to stay! But you have an obligation and I am no one to come between a man and his responsibility to his nation. Or a man and his aspirations.”

You explained to him how you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason he didn’t go. Steve had done so much for you, you felt it was time to do something for him. You swore you’d be fine, eventually when he came back home after winning the war. Steve complied and promised he was going to do his best to get back to his best girl.

“I wished I hadn’t been a fool, Y/N. I wished I’d noticed you before. These past two years have been the best and I can’t help but wonder why we did not get together sooner, that way maybe we could’ve… I’m sorry.”

You knew exactly what Steve was apologizing for; he had been very clear about giving everything for his country, including his life if necessary…meaning, there was a high chance you’d never see him again or get the opportunity to live the life you yearned with him.

The day he left for camp, you could tell he wasn’t scared, maybe a little nervous, nonetheless there wasn’t a drop of fear in his eyes. The sole thing that afflicted him was the sight of you, standing behind the crowd of people saying goodbye to their loved ones. Arms crossed over your chest as you silently cried observing him go. Not wanting to get closer because you knew that if you did, you’d end up making a scene like most women there, and if you made a scene, Steve would stay.

Watching him stand by all those big guys’ side, your heart sunk with despair. You never thought of Steve as a ‘small man’, although now it was the only thing your brain could see. You figured that even carrying a proper weapon would mean a big effort for him.

Hope was the only thing you had, and you clinged to it with all of your strength.

Time went by, with no news of Steve. No news meant everything was ‘alright’.

Until that fateful day.

After a long shift at the hospital you came back home only to be handed by your mother a sealed letter from the U.S. Army., notifying Rogers’s family that “ _ The Secretary of War desired to express his deepest regret that Private Steven Grant Rogers was killed in action.” _

Everything in your world crumbled after reading those typed words against the piece of paper. There was a hole forming in your stomach and swallowing every bit of air out of you. Your knees crashed against the tiles of the kitchen floor and your mother kneeled by your side as she attempted to sooth you and tried to hold you still from the intense shivering of your spasmodic, weak, heart-broken body. It was as if you couldn’t breathe anymore, as if life itself had been taken away from you all of a sudden. And it was.

Steve was your everything and now he was gone, forever.

The sound your throat was able to make was something you never knew you were capable of reproducing. It was filled with horror, despair, anguish, sorrow and misery. You knew that there was a big chance of an outcome like that one, and you tried a million times to prepare yourself in case it materialized, what you didn’t expect was for it to happen so soon. Steve was small, skinny, but his will was grand, there was no way he lasted so little in combat.

For weeks everything felt numb. Your surroundings were bleak and time went in slow-motion. You couldn’t move, talk, sleep or even breathe. Your person, the man you knew since you were born was dead and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your mother began to wonder if you’d ever go back to being yourself, if she needed to reach out for help for your mental state. She was so worry about you that she forgot that the man that was supposed to save you from a spinter fate was dead. The sole thing she saw was her daughter mourning the love of her life. 

One night, as you fidgeted in your bed trying to get some sleep, Steve’s voice resonated in your head: “ _ There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. _ ”

He wanted to help his country, to end this war. People were dying, fighting to defend what’s right. It just felt wrong and selfish to drown in mourn and angst alone at home when you could be out there helping at the hospital and possibly help the troops overseas. You had the gift of knowledge as a nurse, Steve would be proud to see you using it for the greater good. He would’ve wanted for you to see the big picture and keep up the good work.

Steve was the only reason you kept up with the news and the propaganda of the war, after he was gone, it was not your priority, thus most of the time you skipped reading the newspaper. Your mother only mentioned highlights when something worthy of telling occurred.

You went back working at the hospital. Everything was a struggle. Not breaking down at whatever insignificant thing that triggered memories from Steve was the hardest thing you had to do. War times were dark, rough times. People empathized with you though. They didn’t need to know the full story but whenever they saw you tearing up as you took someone’s temperature, they remained quiet letting you be. Others opened up about their missing loved ones and mentioned how ‘time cures everything’.

Everyone had lost someone at this war. It was fair to have bad days.

When life began to be a bit more bearable, things turned upside down yet again.

You saw him. Well, it wasn’t him  _ him _ but it was  _ him _ .

Taller, wider, stronger…that couldn’t be him. Right?

But his face…his eyes, his dimples…those were his.

How? He was supposed to be killed in action. 

You went in for a movie with one of your gal pals and left the theatre feeling confused, anguished and as if you were living in a bizarre version of your universe. They said his name: ‘Captain America, Steve Rogers leads 400 men out of a HYDRA base…’

Captain Steve Rogers.

What the heck?

So many questions, so little answers.

For the first time in months you read the papers, watched the propos; every single thing had his face and name in it. Your friend told you whatever she had gathered about him, which wasn’t much. Only that he was a super soldier of some kind, saving America. She told you that he had been touring around the country before actually going to battle.

You felt stupid for missing out on all of that. You were so obsessed with his ‘death’ and then with honoring him by doing your job that you missed the fact that he was actually alive and in every media outlet available.

Still, there was something about the man you saw on those tapes that didn’t make sense to you. You wouldn’t believe Steve was alive until you saw him, heard him, smelled him and touched him. Everyone you knew that also knew Steve told you there was no way that the Captain was him, which solely encouraged you more to get to him and see for yourself.

They had taken Steve away from you, now they presented you with an odd version of him. You were convinced to take whatever they could offer if that meant you were getting your lover back. 

Your heart craved to see Steve again, to feel him close in order to be able to breathe once more. Despite people telling you Captain America wasn’t the Steve Rogers you knew, deep down, even with all of the physical alterations, you could tell he was the Brooklyn boy you grew up with. You just needed confirmation.

You wrote him letters, you tried to contact him through the senator whose daughter’s life you helped save when she entered the hospital with cardiac failure.

Nothing.

Hope was slipping through your fingers. Maybe they were all right and Captain America was not the Steve Rogers who loved you unconditionally.

One day a recruiter from the army visited the hospital recommending the qualified personnel to serve overseas. Things were getting tougher and rockier, the injured outnumbered the healthy and the government needed as much help as they could get from folks trained in the medical field, since most of their doctors and nurses were also in critical numbers.

This was your call. The right thing to do. Your country needed you.

You signed, not hesitating once about doing it and for the first time you actually understood why Steve did what he did.

Your mother almost killed you when she found out, yet somehow you managed to persuade her into taking pride in your actions, ultimately, she did. She even told all of her friends.

The training they submitted you to was way worse than you ever imagined. “ _ Why do I need to run miles, to push-ups, climb ropes if I’m only a nurse? _ ” you thought constantly throughout the entire thing. Physical training became mandatory in July 1943 to enhance the durability of the nurses and doctors who signed. After losing almost all they got in the front lines, who didn’t have training, the Army wasn’t keen on making the same mistake again. The other training like field sanitation, setting up field medical facilities, psychiatry and anesthetics made way more sense to you. All the same, you were aware that probably the physical training was what was going to keep you alive in case things went south.

Finally, after weeks of intensive training, you were finally sent somewhere in France.

If you thought training was brutal, the field was an actual nightmare.

You had worked a fair share of years as a nurse and training to become one, however, the horrors you saw at the Allies camp were straight out of hell. There was no better way to describe it.

Every man you helped heal made your heart fix itself a little. Every man you failed to aid, broke your heart even more.

You began to wonder the sense of it all. If you really were making a difference by just being there.

It was the feeling of an empty, burning stomach and lack of air you experienced when you read Steve’s death notification that kept you going. You wouldn’t wish any other person in the entire planet to have to read a similar letter to the one you received. If you trying to fix those soldiers meant that you could help reducing the number of those letters being sent out, then you would do your best.

Steve would’ve wanted that.

You asked about Steve, Captain America, to every person you came across with; most talked about him like if he was some sort of legend or ghost-tale. None of them had in fact met him face to face. It worried you constantly, the not-knowing if that Steve was  _ your  _ Steve and if he was, it unsettled you to ignore his health status. Either way, you thought about him all the time.

One night, as you fell slowly asleep in your cot, some loud thuds and sirens forced you to get out of bed.

Camp was being attacked.

Physical training indeed came in handy as you tried to gather as much medicines and medical supplies you could in order to be ready for extraction. It was no surprise that the medical tents were the first ones to be taken out. Only a handful of doctors, nurses and injured came out alive. You were lucky to have the early morning shift that day instead of the night one. Most of the soldiers fought back until it became clear that there was no way they would beat the Axis, thus, they were all forced to retreat.

It took days of walking and uncertainty before what was left of the unit could reach safety at an unknown military base.

The troops welcomed the survivors, the nurses and doctors ran to help as they were trained to do.

Although you mentioned multiple times that you were one of the few unharmed and that you were fine and ready to work again, it was protocol for tests to be run and bed rest until they were sure you were healthy.

As you laid, watching the tent’s fabric ceiling, you tried to recall the events of that fateful night at camp. It happened so fast, there was smoke, fire, noise, blood…more blood than you were used to, and by that point, it was a lot. It ached in your gut, and in your heart the fact that you personally knew all of those who didn’t make it. You had been with them at that camp for months now.

Tears began to damp your face and your breathing began more agitated with every unlocked memory of that night. It was like a chain, every memory led to another, and then other, and other, and so on. Your mind was filled with voices of all the ones you’ve lost, of the bombs, the shots, the screams, the cries for help, for God himself, the voice of a Captain giving orders…you covered your ears hoping that way it will all go away, but it didn’t.

The voice of a Captain giving orders. That wasn’t in your head engraved as a memory. That was happening right now in real life.

And it was not just any Captain.

It was Captain America himself. 

Not even almost a year of not hearing his voice could ever make you forget about its sweet, glorious sound.

This was Steve,  _ your _ Steve.

You jumped out of the bed, ignoring all of the calls from your attending nurse to stay laying down until you were cleared. You ran through the field, trying to find where the voice came from exactly from all of those tents. Your legs felt like gelatin, they were giving up on you, no wonder. After days of unstoppable roaming through the France forests, helping carrying medical equipment, injured men and feeding from the little it was saved from camp, it made sense your legs didn’t want to cooperate anymore.

“Steve!” you yelled in hopes of getting someone’s attention. Anyone who could take in you in the right direction. “Steve!”

Some of the men turned their faces and approached to assist you.

“Ma’am…let me take you back…” A young man intended to hold you.

In that moment you could’ve sworn you saw your Brooklyn boy’s golden hair in the distance, contrasting against the green of the uniforms.

“Steve!” You cried again, fighting the good soldier who tried to help you. “Please…I’m looking for…”

“Y/N?”

Your words were cut off by the same familiar voice that forced you out of bed several times before. The soldier who held you, released you from his grip once he spotted the person you were looking at.

“Y/N!”

You felt your heart skip a beat once you pin pointed Steve amongst two dozens of soldiers, a couple of feet away from you. He was different, yet you simply knew in your heart it was him: the Steve Rogers you yearned for.

When Steve finally made sense that you were really there, he dropped his colorful shield and ran in your direction. He did not hesitate when he pushed you against his body and lifted you in the air at the same time he leant in for a kiss. You placed your arms around his neck, giving into the kiss. Soft, sweet, filled with tenderness and neediness.

The cheering and teasing whistles courtesy of the soldiers made you come back to reality and separated from the kiss. His hands grabbed your hands, forearms, shoulders, neck and face, palming them as if he tried to make sure you were a hundred percent real. His thumb nimbly caught a tear that escaped your reddish eyes.

“It is you.” He managed to say under his breath, still taken aback to see you there.

His eyes were shiny, you could tell he was fighting his own tears.

“It is you?” You answered with the same astonishment in your voice. “It is really you! I wasn’t sure but now, looking in your eyes I can definitely tell it is you.” You grabbed his forearms trying to maintain balance. “What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?”

Steve’s quizzical stare was sort of sweet. He was not used to his new physique yet. You involuntarily glanced down at his toned torso, arms, legs…and quickly went back to his eyes which you had to raise your head in order to meet while Steve lowered his, something that never happened before.

“Oh, well…it is a long story. A story you’d known about if you read my letters, Y/N.”

“Letters, what letters?”

You furrowed your brow and almost fell to ground due to the agitation. Steve caught you before you could even touch the ground. His now big hands were placed on your hips trying to keep you up.

The magical moment of reunion was over. It was him. You could taste it in his lips; Steve Rogers from across the street. He was in one piece and better than ever, apparently. You felt as if your throat was clear and all of a sudden you could in fact breathe again. Now all you wanted was some explaining on his end, nonetheless, by the way his brows were knitted together, you could infer he wanted answers too.

“We should go somewhere private.” Steve suggested in form of a whisper to your ear. You turned around to meet everyone on the base staring at both of you. “Somewhere you can sit and rest, Y/N.”

You nodded, agreeing with him. He offered to pick you up and carry you to the new location since you seemed weak to even walk, but you didn’t want him to. There was something weird about seeing your Steve as a bulky, strong, tall man. It wasn’t bad, it was just odd.

Steve only wanted to do for you the things he couldn’t do prior to the serum, like lifting you in the air when kissing, or carrying you to safety.

When you both arrived at a private tent, you sat in a chair and Steve pulled another one close to you. You stared into his blue eyes. It was truly him underneath all of those muscles. Eyes didn’t lie.

“The only letter I received was the one notifying me of your death, Steve.”

“What? That’s not possible, sweetheart. I am very much alive.”

For the second time you glimpsed at his entire body confirming yet again that he was telling the truth about being alive. The red, white and blue uniform he was wearing looked thicker and tougher than the monosuit you were used to see in all the propos, movies and comics of Captain America back home. But again, his whole appearance was tougher and different. 

“I can tell.”

You didn’t mean to sound as angry or as hurt as you did, it just came out like in a harsh tone. You felt a tingly, bubbling feeling in the pit of your stomach, however it wasn’t a nice feeling, not in the slightest. It was the one of a grudge festering within you. He had been alive all those months and he never got the decency of writing to let you know he was not dead. You understood that he was now probably a busy man, he was a Captain after all.

Steve reached to grab your hand tightly the second he noticed the gears of your brain working and your facial expression tensing up into a crying scowl. He wanted to take you in his arms and whisper to your ear that he was there for you and never intended to make you feel abandoned, although Steve knew better. He could tell you weren’t in the mood of being touched by him, at least not right there and then.

“I didn’t know you were Captain America until I saw you at the movie theater, you see, I avoided the news for a while after you died. I was wrecked, Steve.” You managed to explain through the tears and whimpers. The crying was a mix of gloominess and emptiness. “When I found out you were alive and managed to convince myself that it was really you who I saw on the screen, I tried to contact you, sent you letters, a message through the Senator but you never answered. I signed up to become an army nurse because I thought that it was a way to get closer to you by helping the men fighting for our country…I never imagined I would actually see you.”

It would be a lie to say you weren’t hurting deeply. Steve could read that all over your demeanor ever since he first stared into your eyes and now that you explained everything you’ve been through from the past couple of months he could finally understand why you seemed so abashed and shaken, even more since Steve felt the same exact way.

“I sent you letters from day one, Y/N. After months of not getting any sort of reply I assumed you gave up on me, love.” His hand brushed your cheeks softly, and you couldn’t help but tilt your head so you could capture his hand between your shoulder and face, yearning for his touch. “However, I never sent a letter saying I was dead, that is absurd.”

“I never got those letters, Steve. Not even one of them. I’m sorry.”

His face stiffen after mentioning the notifying letter you got from the Army. Steve had no idea of how that could’ve happened. Mistakes could be made when fighting in such a big war, however the fact that you never received his letters was too suspicious for his taste.

“No, I am sorry you had to mourn my death. I’m so sorry, love. I promise I’ll get to the bottom of that.”

The tensed muscles and jaw were an indication to you that Steve was just as confused and hurt as you. For a split second he wasn’t Captain America in front of you, it was Steve from across the street, vulnerable and with lost puppy’s eyes calling for you. 

Suddenly it made no sense that you felt angry at him, life had tricked him too, it wasn’t his fault. You spent almost a year thinking that he was gone and he spent the same amount of time thinking you didn’t care for him anymore. The idea of Steve facing the crudeness of war at believing that you fell out of love with him, felt like acid corroding you inside out.

You finally gave in and lost yourself in his arms. Steve squeezed you against his hard chest, pulling you as close as he could. You were able to hear his thumping heart beat rushing with emotion, with the past of time and you melting in his embrace, his heart began to regularize into a slow rhythmic pace. Never in your life had you felt so safe, despite literally being in the middle of a war. It felt strange that the big, strong pair of arms holding you were actually Steve’s. You still couldn’t understand how exactly that occurred, going from wimpy to bulky, but you weren’t going to poke the subject.

“Actually, I can explain.”

An unknown voice to you interrupted the little moment you were having with your long lost boyfriend. The two of you set your sights to the person standing at the tent’s entrance. Steve seemed to recognize him: “Stark?”

“Is this the girl you talked to me about?” Stark used the index finger peeking from the pockets of his trousers to signal to you. “With all due respect, ma’am you are gorgeous.”

“Stark…” Steve hissed at him, clearly getting annoyed with each second that went by and the other man didn’t elaborate further.

“Right, the letter. I’m sorry Steve, but Erskine insisted on sending the death notification. He knew that she was going to represent a distraction, someone you’d give up everything for. Erskine needed to make sure that before you underwent the enhancing procedure, nothing bounded you. He couldn’t take the risk so he made Phillips send that letter. Then Phillips confiscated the ones you tried to send her way and the ones she sent your way”

“And you knew all along?”

“Not all along.” Stark shrugged his shoulders. “When you began working tightly with me it and opened up about the sweetheart waiting for you back at home, it stroke me as bit odd that you didn’t communicate with her, so I began digging and found all of the unopened letters in Phillips’s office as well as your old file, y’know, pre-enhancing, and it appeared to be that you were dead. I didn’t say anything because Phillips caught and managed to persuade me not to tell.”

For some reason, Stark’s explanation didn’t shock you. Steve was now Captain America, a super soldier that apparently had gone through some sort of procedure that ‘enhanced him’. It made sense for the higher ranks to want his past gone, that included you and the slim version of Steve Rogers.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Stark. I appreciate you coming clean, now.”

Steve stood up and approached him to pad his back in a friendly way. Stark chuckled nervously and left the tent.

Just as you, Steve didn’t want to poke any other subject that wasn’t the fact that you were there with him. He could deal with Phillips later.

Steve went back to you, eager to kiss you once more. Your lips met and you felt like disappearing in him. Nothing around you mattered for a fraction of a second as you finally get to submerge yourself in the gentle touch of your Brooklyn boy. This was the man you grew up with, that said good morning to you every single day, that stood up for you even when he wasn’t in shape to do so, the man who believed in you and encouraged you to be the best version of yourself. The man you loved before the entire country did. When air began to lack, the two of you pulled slightly apart. You still could feel his breathing over your lips, and the warmth of his body. His beautiful eyes met yours, he was staring at you the same way a kid would stare to the stars for the first time.

“I love you.” 

“And I love you.”

“You must have a million questions.” Steve talked over your lips.

“Certainly there’s tons of catching up to do.” You yielded with a small grin taking over your face, happy to finally reunite with your love. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still uncertain if I should maybe write a second part focusing on the reencounter, or maybe about the missing letters...let me know what you think!
> 
> Thanks for reading this dumb, little love story I urged to write in the middle of the night.


End file.
